


A Daughter In All But Name

by luna_plath



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Birthday, Drabble, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, The Night's Watch, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 04:16:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1926381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luna_plath/pseuds/luna_plath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa is the Lady of Winterfell, ruling in her own right from their family’s home and restoring peace to the north, and he finds the time to journey to her as often as he can.  Their visits are both comforting and wistful, each one reminding him of the family he could have had if only he’d better understood what he’d be giving up by joining the Watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Daughter In All But Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wildfloweroses](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=wildfloweroses).



Life at the Wall is tiring and thankless, with each day producing another set of problems and difficulties that Jon does his best to untangle. Most nights, he falls asleep alone and exhausted in his bed, with no one but Ghost for company. 

He is able to continue like this because every few moons he will have a reprieve from his duties as Lord Commander. Sansa is the Lady of Winterfell, ruling in her own right from their family’s home and restoring peace to the north, and he finds the time to journey to her as often as he can. Their visits are both comforting and wistful, each one reminding him of the family he could have had if only he’d better understood what he’d be giving up by joining the Watch.

Jon has just left a meeting with Lord Umber and Tormund Giantsbane. The status of the Gift requires close attention, he has held several of these councils in recent months, and each one has threatened to dissolve into bickering if Jon hadn’t cut the arguments short.

As he’s crossing the yard Satin approaches him, his black curls blown astray by the wind.

“Lord Commander,” he says. “The Lady Sansa is here.”

Jon does not wait for Satin to say any more. He makes for the stables—Sansa always sees that her horse is well taken care of when she reaches the end of her traveling. As soon as the stables are in sight he feels a smile spread across his face as a small, dark-haired form runs straight toward him.

“Uncle Jon!”

Little Aranna is only three and still small enough for Jon to easily pick up.

“Aranna, why have you and your mother come all this way?” he asks, holding her like she weighs no more than a feather pillow.

“We wanted to surprise you on your nameday,” Sansa replies sweetly, giving him a light kiss on the cheek.

Snow begins to fall, a few light flakes catching in Sansa’s hair and making it sparkle like she’s a sculpture formed of ice. He has never felt so lucky as he does now. Jon wants to kiss Sansa full on the mouth, to greet her properly and show her how much he’s missed her company, but they are in plain sight and to the rest of Westeros they remain half-siblings.

“You came all this way just to see me?” Jon asks, more than a hint of wonder in his voice.

“Of course, silly,” Aranna says.

He sets her down and chuckles when she launches into a stream of excited questions. Sansa takes their daughter’s hand and he walks with them through Castle Black, showing Aranna the different buildings and the top of the Wall, all the while wishing he could tell his little girl the truth.

“Uncle Jon, what if I fall?” she asks, her eyes wide. 

They stand overlooking the northern side of the Wall, a bracing wind making him squint against the snow, sending Aranna’s curly hair into tangles. She has his dark hair but in every other respect she resembles Sansa, with blue eyes and a dusting of freckles across her nose.

“Don’t worry sweetling, I won’t let you fall,” he assures her, hoping that one day she’ll call him _father_ instead of _uncle Jon._


End file.
